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Letter From The Editor Opinion

Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom

For 20 years, I drove from Midtown to Downtown, five days a week, on Vance Avenue. The Flyer‘s offices were on the bluff near the Tennessee Brewery, and Vance was the most direct route from my house. It was a thoroughfare that had seen better days. There were still remnants of those days — a couple of big Victorian mansions, a once-posh-looking apartment building — but the street was scruffy, worn out. The only businesses were a small market plastered with “We Take EBT” signs and a couple of faded funeral homes.

As you neared Downtown, you passed Foote Homes, the city’s last public housing project. It always seemed to be the one place full of life on Vance, the yards and front stoops filled with people and activity. It had been rehabbed in recent years and seemed like a stable, family-friendly place.

When the Flyer moved its offices to Union and Front more than a year ago, I stopped driving down Vance and hadn’t seen it in months — until last Friday night, when we were headed to a friend’s house in South Bluffs.

What a change. Foote Homes is gone; a large, grassy vacant space is all that remains. Nearby, new apartments have sprung up on Vance, and new houses are being built just to the south. These are basically instant neighborhoods, homes created to house people of “mixed incomes,” we’re told. They look nice.

So where did the Foote Homes residents go? Scattered over the city, I suspect. The operative urban renewal theory being to break up “pockets of poverty.” So, eh, too bad if you live in one of the pockets. You gotta move.

The building boom is everywhere, especially in downtown and the center city. Near my house, a giant sign reading “The Citizen” now illuminates the night sky, proclaiming the presence of a new apartment complex at McLean and Union — with more apartment buildings to come in nearby blocks. A large, barn-like apartment building is provoking controversy and protest near Overton Square. “Tall skinny” houses are popping up like mushrooms in Cooper-Young, often to the dismay of neighboring home-owners. “Boom, boom, boom, boom,” as John Lee Hooker once sang.

Jean-Luc Ourlin

John Lee Hooker

So who’s moving in? And who’s being forced out by higher housing prices and disappearing single-family homes for rent? You can probably guess. It’s the age-old balancing act between encouraging investment and not displacing people from their homes — the gentrification dilemma. City leaders will increasingly have to deal with this problem as developers continue to jump into the now-hot Memphis market.

We have only to look 180 miles east to Nashville for a perfect case study. According to a recent affordability study by Numbeo.com, the average rent for a one-bedroom apartment in center city Nashville is now $1,529 a month. In Memphis, it’s currently $901. (That’s right.) That latter number will no doubt change as gentrification spreads, forcing lower-income folks to the margins — unless we do something about it. I suspect this issue will become a significant one in the 2019 mayoral contest.

The current administration’s Memphis 3.0 mantra is “Build Up, Not Out.” I get what they mean. The city has been hurt badly by urban sprawl. It’s geographically too large for its population. But Memphis leaders, now and whoever they may be in the future, will need to continue to pay close attention to make sure the gold-rush to redevelop the city’s core doesn’t come at the cost of forcing long-time residents out, and infesting established neighborhoods with make-a-quick-buck, poorly designed housing.

We should encourage and welcome the developers and investors who are putting their money into Memphis. Fresh financial resources are an important part of making a city vibrant. But the investors’ influence should align with the needs and wishes of the city’s residents. Their developments should respect the architectural integrity of our neighborhoods. And care must be taken to avoid chasing away long-time residents who have “paid their dues,” so to speak, by anchoring those neighborhoods before they became “investments.”

Unfortunately, too often those with the big bucks are the ones directing our cities’ urban revivals. We need to look to other “it” cities like Nashville and learn from their successes — and their mistakes.

Categories
Letter From The Editor Opinion

The Big Empties, Redux

“They dot the Memphis landscape like craters on the moon — old bridges, shut-down factories, and abandoned office buildings. In their day, all these places were humming with activity, helping to spin the wheels of Memphis commerce and industry.”

That was the opening sentence of Michael Finger’s 1997 story in the Flyer called “The Big Empties.” Cited in the piece were the Sears Crosstown Tower, the Tennessee Brewery, and the Harahan Bridge — all now undergoing renovation and reinvention.

Now Bass Pro has brought the Pyramid (the pointiest big empty in the world) back to life in a grand way. And just this week, it was announced that the long-dormant French Quarter Inn near the now-booming Overton Square will be torn down and replaced by the 134-room Hotel Overton. On South Main, the Hotel Chisca is coming back, and numerous other downtown and Midtown properties have gotten or are getting new life — too many to mention here. As I wrote last week, a renaissance is happening. And more big empties are filling up.

Twenty years ago, you would have been hardpressed to find anyone who thought any of those edifices had a future. Remember the huge debate about the wisdom of building AutoZone Park downtown? Lots of folks were insisting that it should be built “out east, where the people are,” instead of in what was perceived by many then as a dying downtown. Now the ballpark is one of the city’s crown jewels.

Visionaries like AutoZone’s Pitt Hyde and forward-thinking developers like Henry Turley and Jack Belz, and precious few others, put their money where their hearts were and invested in the city core when many businesses were fleeing to the hinterlands. Their commitment to Memphis is now bearing fruit for all of us.

And I know this isn’t often said, but we also owe a debt to former Mayor Herenton, who first unleashed Robert Lipscomb on the city’s wretched public housing, almost all of which has now been transformed into livable and attractive multi-income housing. I predict that Lipscomb’s often disparaged role in the city’s redevelopment will be one at which future historians will marvel. He’s gotten a lot of things right.

There are still plenty of big properties lying fallow, of course, still acres of blight in some of the city’s poorer neighborhoods, but the conversation has changed from “What can we do about these eyesores?” to “What’s the best way to reinvent this property?” That’s huge.

Looming ahead is the battle over the future of the Fairgrounds and the Mid-South Coliseum, which pits Lipscomb and an as yet unknown developer against a core of Midtown activists who want to save the historic venue. I won’t predict how that will play out, but one thing is certain: The “save the Coliseum” proponents can point to numerous examples where reinvention has paid off handsomely for all of us.